


Forever Song

by loveappeal



Category: K-pop, T-Ara
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 19:19:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1829308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveappeal/pseuds/loveappeal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since when did being yourself become such an awful thing?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forever Song

She moved on to a new country as often as she could. A different native tongue to attempt and wrap her head around almost biweekly - which wasn't as difficult as it sounded when someone spent as a majority of their time listening like she did.

Everyone she crossed spoke differently - it didn't matter if they were speaking English, Spanish, German, or Korean. When it came down to it, it was all in the way they let each syllable roll off their tongue, placing more precision and focus on some words than other. It intrigued her, to be honest, how some people put more bank into what they were saying than others did. She'd seen hundreds of men, women and children over the years who rushed through a conversation but there were always those select few who took their time. Who really put thought into things - sometimes so much that their passion for a certain topic became physically clear.

But she never butted in. Never once. She just continued to watch idly until each person finished their dialogue and went on their way to do God only knew what. They may have been nameless to her, but by the time it was all said and done, she felt as if she had gotten to know a little piece of them.

Jihyun realized that her little "hobby" bordered on invasive, if not a tad creepy, but that was the least of her worries. It wasn't like she'd ever see any of them again. It was impossible. There were billions of people living on earth - and it wasn't like she'd ever directly communicated with any of them. It was rare that they even saw her watching - and, when they did, they either wandered off to a more secluded area to finish their conversation or ignored her until they were done.

She never spoke up to anyone much, anyway. What was the point? Sure, she sometimes found herself interested in hearing about lives other than her own but that didn't mean she wanted to give out her two cents. Jihyun would have rather walked away than risk ruin the beautiful simplicity of the moment.

Maybe they'd dub her a "bitch" because of it. Maybe that was why most treaded lightly around her, like she was an ice castle, sculpted sharply enough to cut anyone who got too close.

But she wasn't a bitch. She was just… herself, it was as simple as that, and she wasn't going to delude or exaggerate for anyone's benefit.

\----

"Well, aren't you just a bundle of fun."

Gaze flicking from one end of the room to the next, Jihyun shifted her weight against the arm of her father's favorite recliner. As her eyes finally decided to settle back on the woman sitting across from her, her eyelids shut firmly, head lolling against the thick cushioning behind her.

"You've been here for two hours and you haven't even given your mother more than a "hello". I know you've never been big on talking but, my God, Jihyun, with how long you were gone for, I'd at least expect somewhat of an interesting story from you. France? Belgium? I'll take anything."

Sorry, Mother, I don't have time for this.

A small roll of the eye was all it took for the aging, but still beautiful, canvas above her mother's eyebrows to furrow into thin, though deep, lines. Her lips pursued together, her expression washed over with something like indifference.

"Well, I tried. I don't understand why you have to be such a little bitch about ever-…"

Jihyun was already on her feet; avoiding the curious gaze of others as she made her way toward her childhood bedroom. Hand on a doorknob, her head turned to the side, catching a quick glimpse of her mother who was already beginning a conversation with one of her hoity toity friends.

She wasn't a bitch.

Since when did being yourself become such an awful thing?

\----

Menthol hanging lazily between her pointer and middle fingers (she was trying to quit), Jihyun let out a prolonged sigh, other hand clamped around the chilled railing of a balcony barricade. She hadn't pictured herself coming back to this place anytime soon - the balcony that she had snuck out over numerous times throughout her childhood. Hell, she hadn't seen herself coming back to Seoul, or South Korea, for awhile longer but her mother had somehow managed to persuade (or maybe "guilt" was a better word for it) her home.

She'd never really felt like she fit in there; like she was that much longed for missing piece of the puzzle that ended up fitting jaggedly along with the other pieces. She was an only child. Her mother had wanted so desperately to have a baby of her own - and she'd eventually gotten one, but Jihyun was certain that she'd never lived up the expectations her mother had created for her. This big, ridiculous dream of a daughter; prettier than all the other girls in the room, smart but not smart enough to trump others and potentially embarrass a future suitor, not prone to speaking up about her passions and interests. The life of the party.

Jihyun wasn't really any of those things. She was pretty, yes, but never one for primping herself up for the sake of others. She was intelligent - but had no qualms with revealing that to others. She was quiet, generally. She was sarcastic and could become embarrassing when drawn into an excited state about something she adored - like photography, traveling, hilariously untranslatable abstract art, food.

Some had found it interesting - keyword: some. The others skirted around her because they were afraid of being associated with someone not afraid to step out of the boundaries created by her mother and her friends - their parents, their aunts and uncles and cousins. An entire society built around being keeping an image set up for you.

She didn't want any of that shit. She wanted to be herself.

Not everyone had been that way, though, thank God. She would have lost herself entirely if there hadn't been, at least, one person who believed in her. One person who enjoyed her sense of humor, understood why she found "love" scenes in any given drama as amusing as she did, and that person was long gone. At least, she assumed as much.

There'd been word on the street - or within the paper thin walls of the penthouse - ever since arriving home that she may have been around still. Loud and proud wails from the mother of her friend, her childhood nanny, who was so happy of the direction her daughter's life had went in. She was into music, you know? She was going to be famous someday, you know?

It was such a stark contrast to how her mother felt for it that it would have stung hearing such gushing if she hadn't been so used to it already.

She was happy for her, anyway. In Jung - she missed her.

A trembling sigh escaped her lips, from a mixture of the early February chill and her sudden longing for something that had been so close but never really in her grasp, as she finally spun on her heels toward her bedroom. It was so cold; she wasn't sure why she'd chosen to go out without a jacket of some sort one. Jihyun shrugged at the thought as she flicked the butt of her cigarette off of the edge of the balcony. Taking a few steps forward, the toes of her heels planting themselves deeply into the thick of carpeting, she let out a small shiver as turned to shut the balcony door behind her…, but something caught her attention before she could finish.

The small frame of another person - back pressed against the wall left of her door. The lack of lighting on that side of the room made it difficult to make out who it was exactly until Jihyun managed to adjust her sight. It didn't take long after to put her finger on who it might have been.

"In Jung?" She let out - her tone something close to hopeful, and maybe she would have been slightly embarrassed by that fact if she hadn't been so goddamn curious.

"Actually, it's Soyeon now," ... Soyeon replied, taking a few steps forward into the lighting, a sly smile slipping across her thin lips. "There's already a few In Jung's in the business - I thought it'd be silly to try and slither my way into there with such a boring name."

And, like that, Jihyun smiled. She couldn't help but smile - because that confidence. It was so like In Jung… or, Soyeon. It was one of the reasons why she'd been so drawn to her growing up. Her ability to make things about her without being too selfish, and how much she loved and cared for herself while still managing to care about the people around her. It was admirable, if anything.

"Of course you'd change your name," Jihyun let out with a soft chuckle, taking a few steps forward before stopping again. She wasn't sure where to go next - did she go directly to "Sohyun"? Or wait for her to come to her? Opting out for the second option, she fell back onto the mattress of her bed, back against the soft plush of her favorite comforter. "How have you been?"

It was a loaded question, as far as she knew. A lot could happen to a person in four years - lives could change, or stay painfully the same in those thousand plus days. Jihyun knew that her life had changed - kind of. At least she'd taken initiative to do what made her happy. The smirk that had played on her old friend's lips turned into something softer, something most wistful at the question as she made her way toward the bed.

"I've been good - good enough," "Soyeon" started as she laid back onto the blanket next to Jihyun. "I feel like I've missed a lot though - everything's been so busy. I've been training super hard because… you know, I'm older than average idols," she let out a small laugh. "I kind of miss things being normal which is ridiculous to say… you know, considering how things could get if I actually do manage to debut."

"You'll do it," Jihyun let out, simply. It wasn't a matter of opinion; it was pure fact. Her friend was brilliant; brilliant, talented, beautiful, all of the things companies aspired of their idols.

"I've missed you."

It was quick and straight to the point, and absolutely out of left field, like most of the things she said. Jihyun smiled lightly at her words, eyes locked on the small, far too extravagant chandelier above them. She'd always had the urge to climb on a ladder and swat that thing in oblivion but that would have been "untoward" of her.

"I missed you too." More than she'd ever really known she could. "I didn't really realized how much until I got back here. It's like… everything exactly the same way it was when I left, but it's… not, you know?"

Jihyun listened as Soyeon gave off a laugh at her words, Soyeon turning over on her side, arm slithering across her stomach in a way that seemed like something from a distant memory. But it wasn't distant - it was happening again, for what had to be the hundredth time. She just hadn't really considered what she'd do if it ever happened again. A person didn't really think about those things when they were country jumping like she had, or they tried not to think about it.

Turning her head to get a better look at Soyeon, Jihyun let out a small sigh, her hand traveling downward to clasp over her friend's. "I know exactly what you mean," she replied simply. "I miss a lot of things."

"I miss us."

I miss you too.

"Us," she repeated back to Soyeon, her smile faltering for a moment before disappearing altogether. "I'm not sure if we ever really were an "us", In Jung," she finished off, slipping up on the girl's given name.

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I didn't want that for us." So bold - she was so bold and open, and Jihyun would had almost been infuriated at her sudden burst of honestly that could have come in handy years earlier if her intrigue hadn't taken precedence.

"You think?"

"I know." Fingers curled upward to wrap around her own - tight and warm, like a promise Jihyun could actually depend on for once. An age old promise. Maybe all those years had been necessary, to coax up much needed courage, maturity.

"Maybe." If her old friend hadn't known her so well - maybe a "maybe" would have been a deal breaker, but she did know her, and that was just as good as a "yes". A definitely. A forever. Could they be forever? If they wanted to be.

"You just have to promise not to bail out on me because you get some variety of Seoul city cabin fever or something. At least take me with next time."

"We'll see."


End file.
